


My gracious silence

by Monocerosik



Series: Veritas: The Quest - 30 prompts challenge [2]
Category: Veritas: The Quest
Genre: Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-09
Updated: 2016-04-09
Packaged: 2018-06-01 06:21:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,258
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6504295
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monocerosik/pseuds/Monocerosik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is an <i>impression</i>. Like a photo taken and preserved forever. Like a moment taken out of time. A slice of reality, intensive and almost magical.</p>
            </blockquote>





	My gracious silence

**Author's Note:**

> Second installment in the 30-prompts-challenge. Unadulterated fluff, just 'cause.  
> The prompt was nr 7 "Muse". That's what happened.
> 
> Warning: English is not my native language and the text is not beta-ed as for now, so I'm sorry for any and all mistakes. If someone wants to beta my Veritas texts, please write to me!

Solomon wishes more days were just like this one. Normal, uneventful, routine, maybe even a bit boring. He feels like he’s had enough excitement to last two lifetimes. He craves moments like that – silence, warmth, safety.

It is not what he's ever wanted – his first and foremost desire is the truth and he has always been willing to sacrifice all of the above for the sake of finding the answers. But this – this is _good_. 

The book he keeps in his hands barely holds his interest. He lets his mind fall silent as his head tilts up and rests against the couch. He soaks up the sun flitting through the blinds. It flickers when the gentle wind tousles the trees in front of the windows. He feels so comfortable sitting on the big leather sofa. Solomon blinks a few times, wishing had an eidetic memory to remember this image and these feelings, so that he could come back to it later and experience it with the same intensity he does now. 

Warm orange light fills the room. Not even a passing car disturbs the stillness of the late afternoon. Everyone is safe and sound, the work for the day is done. His family is happy, taking advantage of the beautiful weather and going out… somewhere. Solomon didn’t feel the need to go out, he had everything he wanted and he decided to stay and enjoy the peace and quiet. 

A slight movement next to him brings him back to reality for a while. A gentle smile appears on his face when he turns to his companion. Vincent has just turned a page in the book he has been reading for the last hour. His presence is soothing and warming at the same time. Solomon watches the face that he came to love. The focused expression, so inherent to this man, is missing. Instead, there is peace and ease, even as the eyes move quickly over the pages. 

There is nothing Solomon can do to stop himself from falling a little bit more for this man, just as he observes him. They came to know each other when they were on the opposite sides of the war. Solomon’s heart aches a little at the thought of Vincent having to endure a lifetime of hardship. Even though he always says it was worth it, because it brought him here. He wouldn’t have it any other way. He repeats that he is glad that he was able to see the truth and that’s all he’s going to say. 

It seems a bit surreal that this intelligent, brave man worked for the bad guys. You would have thought that such a well-educated, smart and put together person would see reason earlier. However, Vincent has one weakness, and that was what Solomon could exploit for his own reasons. He offered Vincent a family. It was not something that Dorna or any of the previous organizations he worked for could offer, despite the tightness of their ranks. Vincent fell for that. Still falls. 

For all his Zen-like character, self-sufficiency, military demeanor and tight grip on feelings, Vincent still is quite an emotional man. Not externally, not overtly, but there is a lot going on inside him. It shows when he is with them. In his caring, in his carefully chosen words of support. In straight-to-the-point questions. In his gestures, helping hand, a pat on a shoulder. In his harsh words of criticism when they deserve it. He is someone like a mentor for them. And he cares about them very much. Solomon thinks about the trust that grew between them in all the years of their acquaintanceship. It was absurdly easy for Solomon to get to know to Vincent, see his real face, understand his motivations. There was some kind of profound bond between them since the very beginning and the adventures they embarked on only deepened and strengthened that connection. Were Solomon prone to over-romantic self-expression, he would have dared to call them soulmates. Not even with Haley had he such an undeniable, powerful link. He loved her, there is no doubt that she is the love of his life. He knows that Haley would have understood and he has no guilt over loving two people. 

Solomon shifts slightly on the sofa, turning so that his back leans on the armrests and prepares to continue his observations and musings. He did not count on the picture in front of them to cause his chest ache with tenderness. A fond smile appears on his lips, as he soaks up the atmosphere of the late afternoon. It is an image he would love to keep with him always, with all the feelings saved for later perusal. 

It is an _impression __. Like a photo taken and preserved forever. Like a moment taken out of time. A slice of reality, intensive and almost magical. Solomon is filled with awareness, experiencing a moment like that maybe for the first time in his life, where everything is just perfect that he wishes he could stop time or he could die in this moment totally happy. Like a conscious decision, _yes, this is what happiness feels like_. He can almost touch it, smell it, see it, the tangible feeling of utter contentment. He sighs happily, smiling a bit more openly, knowing that this image will come back to him to comfort him in difficult times. He will be able to recreate this afternoon in his mind in detail. The vividness of the memory, the solidity of it, will stay with him forever. Because this is what life is about. Yes, it is about finding the truth and helping people and protecting the Earth, but all in all, the most important meaning to the life is finding happiness and gripping it tight so it never leaves. _

Solomon’s hand shots out and he lays his hand on Vincent’s forearm. Vincent looks up, surprised. He raises his eyebrows. Solomon only shakes his head and smiles, staring deeply into the eyes of a man so dear to him. They look at each other for a long while, communicating without words, as it is their custom. In an unspoken agreement they lean towards each other until their mouths meet. Slow, brief touch of lips is nothing more than an affirmation of the bond they share and Solomon revels in it. He feels Vincent’s breath on his face, absorbs the warmth from his lips, commits to the memory the taste of the other man’s skin. 

This is all he needs. 

Drawing back, he searches Vincent’s eyes, curious if he needs to explain, but as always, Vincent is two steps ahead of him. Vincent gives him another fond look, no words needed, and turns his attention back to the book, while Solomon continues his observations. After a few moments, he turns so that he could lean against Vincent’s arm, soaking up his warmth, enjoying the firmness of his body against his own. His legs end up thrown over the armrest. He crosses his arms on his chest and closes his eyes. 

Vincent only then looks down at him. He can only see the side of his face but still he smiles this small private smile, his eyes showing the gentle nature of his feelings for the man leaning on him. He shifts a bit to get more comfortable and bows his head to touch his lips to Solomon’s hair in a gentle kiss. 

‘My gracious silence’, he murmurs and then turns back to his book. 

Solomon smiles. 

**Author's Note:**

> Soooo... Do you think I should write more or give up? 
> 
> I see you, people, sending me kudos - THANK YOU! You are the best. I cherish and treasure each one of them.
> 
> A/N. "My gracious silence" are the words spoken by Coriolanus to his wife. I have seen a play from National Theatre Live and it was inceridble. I recommend watching it, if you have a chance.


End file.
